


Head(ache) Over Heels

by Gobayern16



Series: Star Wars Whumptober 2020 [26]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt Fox, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Protective Quinlan, Whump, Whumptober 2020, Worried Thorn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27208585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gobayern16/pseuds/Gobayern16
Summary: “Fox?” He calls softly. A grunt of pain sounds from deeper in the room. Brow furrowed, Thorn glides forward on silent feet, rounding the desk. His heart catches at the sight that greets him.Fox is curled up, small as he can make himself in full armor, under his desk. His face is buried in his knees, hands gripping his hair.
Relationships: Fox/Thorn/Quinlan Vos
Series: Star Wars Whumptober 2020 [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948018
Comments: 3
Kudos: 100
Collections: Commander Fox





	Head(ache) Over Heels

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Whumptober Prompt #26: If you thought the head trauma was bad… - Migraine  
> Thank you to the wonderful RogueLadyVader for beta-ing!

Thorn frowns at his comm, at Fox’s formally-worded message.

_ I require your assistance. _

This is the second time in two weeks that Fox has sent this message; it’s worrisome that his migraines seem to be happening more frequently.

He sends a message to Stone and Thire, asking them to come in early to help finish Fox’s paperwork since he’s incapacitated now. 

Thorn snags his helmet and heads for Fox’s office, checking for the blindfold he keeps in one of his belt pouches. On the way he also comms Quinlan Vos; their boyfriend should be finished with his most recent mission debrief.

He opens Fox’s door just enough to slip inside, the  _ hiss _ of the door closing loud in the heavy stillness.

Thorn waits for his HUD to adjust to the almost-darkness, then blinks in confusion at Fox’s chair. At Fox’s  _ empty _ chair.

“Fox?” He calls softly. A grunt of pain sounds from deeper in the room. Brow furrowed, Thorn glides forward on silent feet, rounding the desk. His heart catches at the sight that greets him.

Fox is curled up, small as he can make himself in full armor, under his desk. His face is buried in his knees, hands gripping his hair.

“Oh, Fox,” Thorn breathes. He kneels, gently tugs Fox’s hands out of his hair. Fox lifts his head just enough to expose one eye, and Thorn’s heart clenches at the abject misery in the red-rimmed gaze.

Fox’s migraines always leave him feeling so helpless. It’s not an enemy to be faced on a battlefield or a criminal to be sniffed out on Coruscant. There is nothing to do but help Fox deal with the symptoms and hope they don’t last long.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad?”

“Eight,” Fox grunts, voice muffled. He buries his face again. “Started seeing red spots right before I commed.”

Thorn is glad Fox is getting comfortable with asking for help, with letting others take care of him. He just wishes it were under better circumstances.

“Okay.” Thorn pulls the blindfold from his belt. “Blindfold first, or standing up?” He waits patiently for Fox to choose, knowing the pain makes every thought a battle.

“Standing,” Fox finally says. He visibly steels himself then inches out from under the desk, eyes tightly closed.

Thorn ducks under one arm, slings his own around Fox’s waist.

“Ready?”

At Fox’s grunt, Thorn slowly rises to his feet, pulling Fox with him. Fox clenches his eyes even tighter at the change in elevation, hand gripping Thorn’s shoulder hard enough to leave bruises through his armor.

They finally make it fully upright, Fox trembling lightly in his grasp, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. He waits until Fox is somewhat steady, then puts the blindfold on.

It’s heavy-duty blackout material, absolutely no light getting through, and Fox’s shoulders lower a fraction as it’s firmly tied in place.

Thorn snags Fox’s helmet from his desk and gently puts it on him, making sure the HUD is completely turned off.

The trip to their quarters, normally a five minute walk, turns into an agonizing journey. Fox lets out little pained cries with almost every step, unable to grit his teeth without making the migraine worse. His shoulders are up under his ears, and Thorn knows the muscle tension is only going to make things worse. 

Thorn almost cries in relief when the door to their quarters comes in sight. Fox’s pained whines have morphed into a low whine, his trembling evolving into full-body shaking. Thorn is taking more and more of his weight with every step as the pain consumes Fox, absorbs all his attention and energy.

Thorn gets the door open and carries him inside, depositing Fox on their bed as gently as he can. He divests him of his armor, steadfastly ignoring Fox’s keening. He pulls Fox’s helmet off last, heart stuttering at the tear-soaked blindfold.

“Oh, ka’ra,” Thorn murmurs, hurting because Fox is hurting and there’s nothing he can do. He gently pushes Fox to lay down, poised to grab the trash can as Fox swallows convulsively. But Fox battles the nausea down with focused breathing and stubborn will. 

Thorn strokes one hand through sweat-soaked curls, kneads Fox’s tense neck with the other. “Do you want an ice pack?” 

Fox’s response is cut off by the door sliding open. Thorn turns around, relaxing when he realizes it’s Quinlan. The Jedi moves soundlessly to them.

“I saw Stone,” he says quietly. “He said they’ve got the paperwork covered and to focus on taking care of Fox.”

Thorn nods, relieved he doesn’t need to leave. He trades spots with Quinlan, keeping an eye on his boyfriends as he strips.

“Hey, Foxy,” Quinlan murmurs softly. He takes his boots off and slips into bed, curling himself around Fox.

Down to his blacks, Thorn clambers in on Fox’s other side, bracketing their hurting lover. Quinlan has a hand in Fox’s hair, and Thorn realizes he’s using the Force to ease the pain.

Fox remains tense for several moments then slumps, completely boneless.

“He’ll be out for a while,” Quinlan says. “Get some sleep. I’ve got watch.”

Thorn nods tiredly, hiding a yawn in Fox’s back. He crowds as close as possible, slings an arm over both Fox’s and Quinlan’s sides.

“Night, cyare,” he mumbles.

“Night, sweetheart.”

Thorn drifts off, a warm wave of love blanketing him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos greatly appreciated. :)
> 
>  **Permissions:** All my works, including this one, can be translated and podficced without first asking my express permission. I ask only that you credit me as the original author and provide a link back to the original work. For anything else, please ask first. Thanks.


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